Moving In
by dna2000
Summary: Modern AU M/M. Same universe as "A Conflict of Feelings". Matthew and Mary begin to ponder the idea of them living together- are they ready for it? Very fluffy.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I had this idea a little while ago and have only recently started to write it up. It is, as usual, a modern-day fic, and very fluffy._

…

"Alright. Time to go." Matthew declared as the credits rolled, turning the DVD player off with the remote.

Mary had been in the mood for something light-hearted and girly to counter her difficult day at work, whereas Matthew had wanted something intellectually stimulating. They compromised (or, more accurately, Matthew compromised), and Mary dug out her copy of Legally Blonde. But now the popcorn was down to its last dregs, and Matthew needed to head home if he was going to get a decent night's sleep.

"Already?" Mary asked, sitting up from her position draped over Matthew. "But it's only-" She paused to look at her phone. "…midnight." She finished sheepishly. Where had the time gone? It seemed like only an hour ago that her boyfriend had come over to her parents' house for an early dinner with her.

"Precisely." Matthew smiled, gently pushing Mary's legs off of his. "I need to wake up at 7am to get to Derby in time for Josh's wedding."

"I still think Josh is blindly running into this marriage." Mary said matter-of-factly. "Everyone knows that Ella's been flaunting herself around town and giving her number out to random men."

Matthew raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend amusedly. "Don't think that you can change the subject and make me stay here longer." He smirked, noticing that Mary had already re-situated her legs over his lap.

"That's not what I was doing! I'm merely looking out for the well-being of your friend. Excuse me for expressing a little concern." Mary said defensively, but relented at Matthew's completely unconvinced countenance.

"You must think I'm really stupid." Matthew glared at her playfully.

"Well, I _did_ persuade you to watch Legally Blonde by telling you that it would help sharpen your legal skills." Mary pointed out smugly. Deep down, she knew that Matthew never believed her spurious justifications for her choice in films or outings, but he couldn't resist giving into her and letting her have her own way. And she adored him for it.

"It did teach me a thing or two about perms." Matthew joked, leaning in for his goodbye kiss. He'd intended to have a quick peck, but Mary had other ideas; she grabbed the collar of his jersey shirt and pulled him so he was half on top of her, skilfully using her lips and tongue to deepen the kiss. She'd probably be seeing him tomorrow evening, yet it proved difficult to say goodbye to him.

"Mmm. Mary." Matthew mumbled around her lips, in between sighs at the feelings she was creating within him. He felt her shift, and a moment later her leg began to slide against his. Before he reached the point of no-return, he broke away, eliciting sounds of protest from a disgruntled Mary. "Darling, as much as I'd love to stay and continue- and believe me, I do-" Matthew stated honestly, breathing deeply to try and temper the excitement that had been building inside him. "I really should go." His face was full of apology as he looked down at Mary's crestfallen face. Objectively, it was silly for her to be so reluctant to part when they were seeing each other on an almost daily basis, but he felt the same way. It seemed that the longer their relationship went on, the more difficult it was to be apart, even for a day.

"I know." Mary sighed resignedly, stroking her hand down the front of his shirt. "You need a good night's sleep."

"I do." He paused. "Well…I'm going now…" Matthew couldn't make himself move now that the prospect of actually leaving was before him. He leaned down for another kiss, deciding that the last one ended too abruptly for it to qualify as a proper goodbye kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Mary asked hopefully, once Matthew pulled away.

"Definitely." Matthew assured her with a smile. "Alright then…bye." He kissed her again- and then once more, softly.

"Bye." Mary replied, smiling inwardly at how sweet he was. She watched as Matthew slowly removed his arms from their natural place around her and stood up, practically dragging his feet towards the hallway outside the living room.

Suddenly, Matthew had a light-bulb moment. "You know," he stopped before he reached the doorway, "wouldn't it be easier if we just…" He trailed off.

"If we just what?" Mary asked, confused. Matthew had begun his sentence confidently but now he appeared hesitant and bashful. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Lived together."

Mary's eyes grew wide. They'd been together for about six months now, and it was by far the most loving and committed relationship either of them had been in, but the notion of living with a man was still a very foreign and daunting one to Mary. She certainly hadn't expected the topic to come up only half a year into their relationship, so was rather taken aback by Matthew's suggestion.

"Erm…" She began, uncharacteristically unsure of what to say. "Isn't that quite a…_serious_ proposition?" She picked at the fabric of the sofa self-consciously.

"I suppose…" Matthew said cautiously, worried that he'd scared her. "But we _are_ serious. Aren't we?" He asked anxiously, feeling much better at the patronising look Mary gave him in response.

"Of course we're serious. But it's something we should think about properly. It's not a good idea to rush into this simply because we want to spend a bit more time together." Matthew nodded in agreement at her sensible statement. "There's a lot to discuss. We'd need to think about where we'd live, for starters." Mary laughed lightly, stopping when she noticed Matthew frown.

"What are you talking about? We'd live at mine, surely?" He asked rhetorically. Mary still lived at home with her parents and sisters- there was no way he'd move himself in with all of them, at risk of encountering them at awkward moments, no matter how big the house was!

Mary shifted her gaze. "That would be the most logical solution…" She said diplomatically.

"But not your preferred solution?" Matthew cottoned on to her reluctant tone. Mary was usually very direct with him- and with everyone else- so any reticence on her part to speak the truth almost certainly meant it would be something vaguely insulting.

"Darling, your flat is fine if it's just for one person. And it's large enough for me to sleep over every now and then, but it's hardly suitable for the both of us to _live _in. Can you imagine us squished together in your single bed every night?" Mary omitted one major factor behind her reasoning that Matthew's flat was inadequate- her absurdly high-maintenance nature. Matthew didn't even have a dishwasher, let alone a house-keeper, for crying out loud.

"When we went to Edinburgh we stayed in that hotel with the ludicrously large bed and we only took up a third of it." Matthew recalled with a fond smile. Mary had a habit of half-lying on top of him as they slept, with her head on his chest. It had taken him a while to get used to being immobilised during the night, but now it felt wrong to sleep in any other way.

"Yes, but it would be nice to have the space if we needed it." Mary reasoned.

"You mean it would be nice for you to have more duvet to steal?" Matthew dead-panned.

"I do _not_-" Mary stopped herself and sighed. "We're not having this discussion again, Matthew." She said dismissively, not seeing the point in rehearsing the same arguments for the thousandth time.

"I'll take that as an indication of concession." Matthew retorted with a smirk. "Though I think there's a bigger issue to settle before we try and hammer out the correct bed size - will your parents be alright with this? I know moving in with someone before marriage isn't really the 'done' thing in your family."

Mary grew warm with his considerateness. Most men would run a mile from her relatively archaic family values, but Matthew never ceased to be understanding. "They'll be fine." She reassured him. "I'm almost 25 now, and it's not like they don't know you or trust you. Plus, after what's been going on with Sybil and Edith, I think anything passes as the 'done' thing in our family now." She said wryly, causing Matthew to laugh.

Sybil had unfortunately had a pregnancy scare a few weeks previously; without telling anybody, she'd bought and taken a pregnancy test, which had turned out to be positive. In her panic to rush to Tom's flat, she'd not thought to conceal the test from the roaming gaze of her eagle-eyed mother. Cora had found it in one of the bathrooms and swiftly confronted both Sybil and Mary about it. Sybil admitted it was hers and defiantly defended her right to keep the baby if she and Tom both wished, prompting a large-scale row about her irresponsibility. The blow-up needn't have happened, however; a trip to the doctor confirmed that the test had been a false positive, and Sybil was not with child. A week later, it was Edith's turn to cause shock and outrage in the family by being found cavorting in bed with one of her father's former colleagues- a man more than double her age. The housemaid had the misfortune of walking into one of the guest bedrooms, believing it was unoccupied, to prepare it for one of the guests who would be staying after Robert and Cora's dinner party. She'd screamed upon finding Edith under the covers with a fairly unshapely middle-aged man, alerting all the guests downstairs to Edith's misbehaviour. Poor Edith was still living with the embarrassment. Since then, Mary had gained the unlikely title of 'most well-behaved daughter' in the Crawley household. Her parents attributed this solely to Matthew's influence, obviously.

"But regardless of what they think, and putting all the other little issues aside," Mary continued, taking hold of Matthew's hand as he stood in front of where she remained seated on the sofa, "moving in together is a big leap to take. You know how strongly I feel about you, but I just don't know if we're ready for it." She said apologetically. While Mary suspected that his suggestion had been a rash one which he hadn't spent time mulling over, she didn't want him to think she was rejecting him.

"That's almost exactly what you said when I put forward the idea of us going on holiday." Matthew pointed out, recalling the conversation which had taken place six weeks into their relationship.

"_Let's go away together." Matthew whispered happily, his hands smoothing over his girlfriend's back as he pulled her closer. _

_Mary's head snapped up from its resting place on Matthew's chest. "Why?" She asked breathlessly._

"_Because," Matthew chuckled fondly, "I want to spend time with you. I want to know what it's like to wake up with you, eat with you, lay in bed with you…" Matthew trailed off, burying his head in the crook where her neck meets her shoulder._

"_But we do all of that already." _

"_Yes we do, but not all in the same day…" Matthew's deep, dreamy voice reverberated against her skin. He began placing tender kisses along her throat, which he'd quickly learned was a sensitive spot for her. _

_Mary would normally have insisted they take time to consider this thoroughly, but at that moment the feel of Matthew's lips on her bare skin was too intoxicating for rational thought. She gently pulled his head up to meet hers, taking advantage of his parted lips to kiss him deeply for several minutes._

"_Where?" She breathed once they'd broken apart._

_Matthew gazed up at her, his eyes drowsy from the kiss. "Where what?" He whispered as his lips began kissing along her chin and jaw; now that he had permission to kiss and touch her as he liked, he was unable to stop himself._

"_Where shall we go?" Mary smiled into his hair as her fingers delved into it, happy that her kisses could drug him to the point of memory-loss. She felt Matthew grin against her neck before he raised his head to look at her._

"_Wherever you want to go." He beamed, bursting with joy that she'd agreed. _

"And as I recall, you were the one who ended up trying to extend the trip." Matthew concluded triumphantly.

"Yes, alright, fine." Mary rolled her eyes at his smugness. "But this is a very different proposition- it's not just a temporary sojourn in a comfortable hotel somewhere. It's permanent, and a very significant juncture in a relationship. It's what people do when they're considering marriage; and I don't think I'm being presumptuous in saying that we're definitely not ready for marriage yet." Mary stroked her fingers against Matthew's to make sure he knew that she didn't mean to be harsh. Being with him had taught her to consider other people's feelings when she spoke. She didn't always remember to do so, or couldn't always help blurting out her opinions, but she tried to mitigate their potential harmfulness as much as she could.

Matthew nodded. He had thought about living with Mary even before this evening- he was madly in love with her and wanted to be with her as much as possible, so naturally the idea had popped into his mind- but he'd imagined cohabitation as something that would occur later down the line, maybe after a year or so of dating. He didn't want to compare the two relationships, as they were so different, but he and Lavinia had been together for two years and had never even considered moving in together. It was, as Mary said, an important and symbolic step which shouldn't be taken lightly. What had he been thinking, suggesting such a thing merely because he was greedy for her kisses?

"You're right." He said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a topic for discussion at a later date." He smiled, and Mary smiled back, both pleased with themselves for being so sensible.

…

"Matthew?" Mary gently prodded Matthew's stomach with her foot. Her legs were stretched out along the sofa, her feet resting on his thigh as he sat and checked through some forms.

"Hmm?" Matthew hummed, not looking up from his papers.

"If I cheated on you, would you forgive me?" He heard Mary's voice say, and his head snapped up with such force that he was sure he'd suffered from whiplash.

"What?" He asked, his voice high-pitched with panic, until he noticed Mary's mischievous expression.

"It's just a theoretical question, Matthew." Mary grinned, and Matthew let out a sigh of relief. The woman he called his girlfriend certainly knew how to get his emotions going, in good ways and bad. But it kept him on his toes, and he did enjoy it.

"No. That's the short answer." Matthew replied, smoothing out the paper which he'd inadvertently crumpled in his fists upon hearing Mary's question.

"What's the long answer?" Mary asked curiously.

Matthew looked up into the middle-distance, pondering. "I don't think there is a long answer, actually. Just 'no'." He said seriously, but smiled as Mary giggled.

"Who are you imagining as the person I cheat on you with, though?"

Matthew turned to her with a frown. As well-matched as they were, it was still a challenge to keep up with her lines of questioning. "I don't know- nobody in particular, just some guy." He shrugged, growing more puzzled at Mary's knowing smile.

"Exactly." She said victoriously. "You presume that I'd go for another man. But what if I cheated on you with a _woman_?" She tested.

"Well I think it's fair enough for me to presume that it would be a man, given that you're heterosexual." Matthew dead-panned, his fingers lightly tickling the sole of her feet so that she squealed and recoiled. He did so enjoy being teased by her, but it was an equal pleasure to tease her back. "So if you cheated on me with a woman, I'd know it didn't mean anything."

"So if I cheated on you with a man, I'd be old news, but if it was a woman then it would be fine? That's a bit of a double-standard, isn't it, Matthew?" Mary's voice was the epitome of innocent curiosity, but Matthew could easily detect the goading undertone.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed that he'd let her call him out. "I don't think it's fair of you to guilt-trip me when only last week you were compiling your list of the top five celebrities you'd like to sleep with."

"It was only a joke! And it was all Sybil's idea- I was just playing along." Mary defended herself. It had been rather endearing and entertaining to see Matthew grow irrationally jealous at the thought of her with Ryan Gosling.

"Alright." Matthew said curtly, his jaw set as he turned back to his paperwork. Mary had to stifle a laugh at his blatant irritation that she may find other men attractive, even if on a totally superficial level.

"Oh, darling, you know I don't think any of those celebrities are as gorgeous as you are." She cooed in an overly saccharine tone, shifting on the sofa so she could lean forward and kiss his cheek.

"Good." Matthew replied. He knew she was teasing him but it nevertheless felt nice to hear her express her attraction for him.

Mary stroked his face lovingly before sitting back and picking up a magazine to conceal her grin. The idea of living with Matthew and having more little things to bicker over was becoming increasingly appealing.

…

_A/N: I intended this to be a one-shot but it was getting quite long so I thought I'd leave it as this, for now at least. I hope you enjoyed that bit of silliness. Let me know your thoughts and if you'd like it to be a longer story, please! xxx_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: wow, I'm so overwhelmed by the response of the first chapter! Thank you! I anticipated this to be maybe two or three chapters, maximum, but now I have a feeling it will be a little longer…unfortunately I don't know how often updates will arrive, but do let me know if you're still interested in the story! Xxx_

…

"Make sure you're there at 7pm sharp. And dress conservatively." Mary's firm instructions continued.

"Conservatively? Does that mean I can't wear my favourite fishnet stockings and fur vest?" Matthew deadpanned as he and Mary crossed the road, hand-in-hand.

"And don't make jokes like that. She won't approve." Mary retorted. The 'she' in question was Violet Crawley, Mary's grandmother. Matthew had heard many stories of this formidable 'Granny', as she was affectionately known within the Crawley family, and had been somewhat dreading the day when he would have to face her. Unfortunately, that day had finally arrived; it was Robert's birthday and he'd invited all his loved ones to dine at the Crawley household. Matthew had attended dinners there countless times, but Violet had never been there- Mary had explained to him that Granny tried to avoid travelling into London as much as possible, preferring instead to remain in her large house in Surrey and get the latest gossip and scandal from the London socialites fed to her by her minions.

Matthew let out a sigh. "It doesn't sound like she'd approve of anything I'd do or say."

Mary looked at him sympathetically as he ran a hand through his hair (a reliable indicator of his stress levels). He'd expressed to her his concerns about fitting in with her family. Robert and Cora had come to see him as part of the family but Matthew still occasionally felt out of place around them. Mary deliberately neglected to mention that her extended family was more formal and less liberal than her parents, in case Matthew grew even more apprehensive.

If she was being honest with herself, part of her was curious to see how this evening would fare. Over the last week or so, thoughts of she and Matthew living together had been at the forefront of her mind; she hadn't mentioned this to Matthew, however. As far as he knew, she was still against the idea, seeing it as too serious for them at that stage in their relationship. But before she could change her stance on cohabitation for good, she felt she needed to expose him to her lifestyle more. He'd done well at the odd family party, but he'd mainly stuck by her side and avoided contact with anybody outside her immediate family or Tom. If he was going to be a more prominent fixture in her life, he'd have to grow accustomed to her family and her background.

"Darling, don't worry so much." She tried to soothe him as they paused in front of the salon at which Mary had a hair appointment.

"It's hard not to worry when you're effectively telling me I can't be myself at all this evening." Matthew argued. It wasn't that he was afraid of Mary's family or of her associates. Rather, he didn't like being in situations where he felt he was being judged or looked down upon, or where he wouldn't be free to be himself. Sincerity was a quality he'd been brought up to value dearly, and he was finding it difficult to marry that with the fact that he wanted to impress Mary's relatives.

"That's not true." Mary slid her hands underneath his jacket and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm just reminding you to be careful with things like punctuality and attire."

"I will, but that's not really what I'm worried about- I'm in control of what time I arrive and what clothes I'm wearing. What I'm not in control of, however, is the conversation around the dinner table." Matthew retorted, in turn wrapping his arms around Mary.

"I'll be there to help if things get difficult." Mary promised, angling her head in the way she did whenever she wanted a kiss. Matthew obliged, bending his head slightly to take her lips in his. "I have to go, I'm already a few minutes late." Mary extricated herself from Matthew's arms. "Call me if you have any questions, otherwise I'll see you at 7pm." She called behind her as she pushed the salon door open.

Matthew merely sighed again as he stood alone on the pavement. He wouldn't have been so worried if Mary hadn't made it seem like such a big deal. Eventually, he decided to make his way home to ready himself for dinner. The first item on his to-do list was to re-read the Wikipedia entry on the Crawley family history.

…

"How am i doing? Matthew nervously whispered to Mary as dinner was announced and the family proceeded to the dining room.

"Well, i think!" Mary murmured back.

"Really?" Matthew was unconvinced. "Your grandmother keeps staring at me with what looks like utter disdain."

"Oh, that's not what that is." Mary clarified. "That's how she looks at everyone the first time she meets them. Dad says that's how she first looked at Aunt Rosamund when she was born!"

Matthew was about to ask what exactly Violet's look of disdain is if her normal look of appraisal is so intimidating, but they'd already reached the dining room. He found himself seated beside Mary's aunt Rosamund (who seemed nice enough so far but he had his suspicions) and diagonally opposite Violet. Mary wasn't too far away but not as close as he would have liked. To make matters worse, Tom had come down with norovirus and was staying at home in bed. Matthew felt distinctly like a small lonely fish in the midst of some hungry killer whales.

"Mother, I'm not sure we'll all be able to travel to Berkshire this weekend." Robert's voice sounded once the general chatter had calmed down.

"Oh god, not Berkshire again." Matthew heard Sybil mutter on his right.

"Why not?" Violet demanded rhetorically. "The Fitzgeralds have been inviting us to their annual shoot for years now and we must maintain our alliances. They're very well connected, you know."

"Yes, we know, but we're all very busy these days and the shoot takes up the entire weekend." Robert explained as patiently as he could.

"Plus, it's a completely objectionable pursuit!" Sybil piped up indignantly.

"Darling, you know they don't shoot real birds." Cora smiled.

"But still-" Sybil persisted.

"Alright, dear, we know you think the way all your ancestors and the former leaders of this country grew up is barbaric, but I'm not asking you to do any actual shooting." Violet spoke over her. "All I ask is your attendance. Matthew?"

Matthew, who'd been quietly eating his soup and enjoying the fact that he'd slipped under the radar, looked up sharply upon hearing his name.

"Yes?" He asked.

"I'm sure you'll be able to spare your weekend for some shooting? This family seems to be teeming with women so it will be useful to have you there."

Matthew took mild offence at being told that his presence was desired solely for utility purposes, but smiled politely. "It's very kind of you to invite me, but-" he began, faltering when he noticed Violet stiffen at the word 'but'.

"Matthew has a cousin over from Holland this weekend." Mary interjected. "So he'll be busy." She looked at Matthew reassuringly, and he gave her a grateful smile back.

"Oh that sounds lovely." Rosamund remarked enthusiastically. "I've always liked Holland."

"Yes and as I recall, you had a particular affinity with Amsterdam." Violet commented with an unmistakeably accusatory tone. Matthew gave Mary a questioning glance when he heard Edith and Sybil sniggering. There was definitely a story there.

"You have such a good memory, mother." Rosamund replied tightly, before turning back to Matthew. "Will this cousin be staying with you long?"

"Actually he's staying with my mother up in the suburbs." Matthew smiled. "So I'll spend the days there but go back to my flat to sleep."

"Why's that?" Violet queried.

"There's not enough space for all of us to spend the night. My mother's house only has one spare bedroom." Matthew replied, sensing that small houses were a concept unfamiliar to Mary's grandmother.

"Gracious, how does she cope, the poor woman?" Violet exclaimed.

"It makes perfect sense." Cora joined in. "Isobel lives alone- she doesn't need a large house, it would be wasteful."

"I suppose that's true." Violet conceded. "I myself downsized my living quarters after William passed." She said, referring to the death of her husband.

"Granny, you live in a country manor with six bedrooms and four bathrooms." Edith pointed out as their soup dishes were cleared away. Matthew's eyes grew wide. He hadn't realised people still lived so lavishly in the twenty-first century.

"I know, but somehow I find a way to manage." Violet replied with self-sympathy, clearly not understanding her meaning. "But really, I'm most curious to discover how your mother gets by." She continued.

"Mother, really." Robert reprimanded gently, casting Matthew an apologetic glance.

"You're always saying that i should try to broaden my horizons, Robert, and that is simply what I am doing." Violet shot back. "So, Matthew, what is the name of your mother's house? I feel like i should pay her a visit and acquaint myself with your way of life."

"Erm...her house doesn't have a name." Matthew frowned slightly. "She lives at number fifty-seven, Gerard Street, if that helps." He offered.

"Fifty-seven?" Violet exclaimed yet again. "Do you mean to tell me there are at least fifty-seven houses on her street?"

"That's usually how terraced houses work, Granny." Mary said drolly. "There's not enough land in England to house people the way you think they should be housed."

"A terraced house? Well, that sounds nice and cosy." Rosamund commented with a smile, although Matthew got the feeling she wouldn't ever want to step foot in such an abode.

"Mmm, indeed." Violet replied with a similar tone. "I take it those sorts of houses have indoor plumbing these days?" She enquired innocently.

"Mother!" Robert warned.

"What's the matter? If you must know, they didn't have flushing lavatories when I was growing up, so I am eager to learn about their modernisation."

"I never took you for one to be interested in modernity." Mary said wryly, earning more sniggers from her sisters and mother as they settled into the main course.

The interest in Matthew's mother's living arrangements quelled, much to Matthew's relief, and Robert actively steered the remaining conversation to neutral topics such as whether it was worth buying a new car, whether it might snow that week, and whether Edith should consider changing her mobile phone contract.

As they rose from their chairs to enter the lounge, Mary tried to walk over to Matthew. He'd done rather well at fielding questions but she wanted to make sure he wasn't insulted by the interrogation. Rosamund swept in, however, linking their arms together and quickly ushering Mary out of the room.

"Mary, you must show me the new piano in the music room. I've been dying to hear you play something!"

"That's interesting, because you always found an excuse to get out of attending our recitals when we were little." Mary remarked with an arched eyebrow. She knew her aunt too well to believe her spurious alibis.

"Alright, fine." Rosamund relented once they were out of earshot in the other room. "What I really want to talk about is that new boyfriend of yours."

"What about him?" Mary asked defensively. It didn't seem like Rosamund wanted to gush about Matthew in the way Mary felt everyone should.

"Are you sure he's a sensible decision?" Rosamund posed the question in what she thought was her caring and concerned tone.

"He's not a 'decision'!" Mary scoffed at her aunt's choice of language. "I fell in love with him!"

"Oh Mary, we _all_ fall in love." Rosamund laughed dismissively. But that doesn't mean we can't use our heads. If you were eighteen or nineteen, or even twenty-one, I'd say have your fun. He is exceedingly handsome and smart and charming, so I can see the attraction. But you're in your mid-twenties now and should be beginning to think about settling down. You can't let your heart overrule that wonderfully shrewd brain of yours."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked, wondering why Rosamund said 'shrewd' as if it was a compliment.

"Can you honestly see yourself marrying him? Living with him, having him come to all the family events?"

"He's been to quite a few of dad's parties. And i get along so well with him, you know. I don't think living with him would be too much of a challenge."

"You get along fine when you're watching DVD's and eating out and going to concerts and…kissing, or whatever it is you do. Actually _living_ with someone is a very different kettle of fish." Rosamund corrected her.

Against Mary's wishes, Aunt Rosamund's words struck a nerve. Since the inception of her relationship with Matthew, she'd been concerned about potential clashes between her family and Matthew. This evening appeared to prove that, in spite of their differences, Matthew and her family could just about get by at dinners and similar events. But what worried Mary was that her family's habits and tastes were echoed by _her_- and they were so far removed from his.

"So you think Matthew and I should break up." Mary stated, inferring from her aunt's demeanour.

"That's not what I'm saying." Rosamund clarified. "By all means, stay with him for the foreseeable future and get the feelings of young love out of your system. But he's not a long-term prospect; it's just not feasible. I'm surprised your parents haven't brought this up."

"Mum did push back a bit at first. She's accepted him now, though, and so has Dad. They're not narrow-minded." Mary hinted.

"Mary, my dear, I'm not being narrow-minded. It's not that I look down upon him or his family. It's a case of being realistic. Can you honestly see yourself spending the rest of your days in a little terraced house, doing your own housework? You are most certainly your grandmother's granddaughter and we all know how much luxury she requires, even in her old age." Rosamund rolled her eyes.

Mary couldn't really dispute that last statement, but tried to regardless. "I can feel myself changing, since I've been with Matthew. I'm not as superficial as I used to be." She said resolutely.

"Yes, I noticed that you didn't complain about the fact that Matthew used the wrong spoon for his dessert." Rosamund replied sarcastically. "I don't need to remind you of your list of wishes; large houses in the city and country, and a husband who comes with a sizeable fortune and the ability to tie his own bow-tie."

"Aunt Rosamund, I made that list when I was seventeen. I've grown up since then." Mary emphasised, still annoyed that Edith had read her diary and leaked the list to the rest of the family.

"I suspect you'll be the same girl you always were." Rosamund countered. "Those desires are ingrained in you; it's easy to forgo them in the short-term, but don't come crying to me when Matthew insists on staying in three-star hotels when you're holidaying in Tenerife, or wherever people go these days."

Mary could only huff in response. She didn't like what her aunt was telling her- partly because it was borderline insulting, and partly because it was...accurate. Rosamund was holding a mirror up against her and Matthew's relationship, and Mary was afraid that the reflection wasn't as problem-free as she'd thought.

"All I'm saying is you need to be sensible about this and not waste too much of your time with someone who you won't end up marrying. Either that, or stay with Matthew in the hope that your lifelong habits and preferences will change." Rosamund said bluntly. She touched Mary's arm gently before turning to join the rest of the family in the lounge.

Mary stood alone for a moment, mulling over Rosamund's advice.

...

Where were you? Matthew asked urgently when Mary appeared at his side.

"Sorry, I got detained by Aunt Rosamund. Have you been alright?" Mary asked, linking her fingers with his. They hadn't had any contact since that afternoon, and in her confused state she needed his comfort- despite the fact that he was a source of that confusion.

"Not exactly. Sybil immediately ran off to see how Tom is, your Dad got a call from work and your Mum started talking to Edith about some guy she wants to set her up with. So that left me with your grandmother. It seems she has quite strong opinions on the NHS." Matthew alluded to his mother's job as a midwife.

"Sorry, I hope it wasn't too painful." Mary apologised, placing her free hand on his arm.

"Don't worry, it was to be expected." Matthew smiled.

"Feel free to head home, by the way." Mary said, concerned that Matthew was subjecting himself to her family out of politeness. "Don't feel like you have to stay any longer."

"It's fine." Matthew assured her. "I want to spend time with you." He squeezed her hand affectionately.

Mary feigned a sweet smile. She wanted to spend time with him too. But her aunt's doubts were ringing in her ears...

…

_A/N: so, Mary's back to questioning the whole 'moving in' idea again. Will Matthew do something to convince her otherwise? Stay tuned! Xx ps this is my first attempt at writing Violet and I quite enjoyed it, but I don't know if it translated on paper…?_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: thanks for all your lovely reviews! I actually had another chapter planned out for Chapter 3, but I felt like writing something Christmassy, so this happened!_

…

"That's too many gold baubles, Edith!" Mary exclaimed, gesturing towards the tree so forcefully that the tinsel flew out of her hand and onto the floor. Matthew bent down to pick it up for her, glad of the opportunity to conceal his laughter at the sisters' incessant bickering. He'd initially found the sibling discord unsettling and had felt that he should assume the role of mediator, but he now recognised it as a natural (and vital) part of the Crawley family dynamic - one which had become very entertaining for him.

"For heaven's sake, Mary!" Edith replied, equally irritated. "Why are you being so anally retentive about decorating a bloody Christmas tree? Goodness knows what you'll be like when you're planning your wedding. Good luck with that, Matthew." Edith said pointedly. Matthew smiled uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. The topic of progression in his and Mary's relationship had been skilfully avoided by them both for the last few weeks.

A week or so earlier, Matthew had been visiting his mother's house for Sunday lunch. While trying to find his old school rugby trophy to show Mary (who had refused to believe that he had excelled at such a manly and brutish sport), he'd stumbled upon a conversation that Isobel had been having over the phone. It had made him rather uneasy. "Yes, she is a little out of touch with the common man but she is a good girl." Isobel had said to her friend. "Oh I don't know if it'll happen anytime soon, she's still quite young – not yet 25. But then again, I got married when I was 24. They do seem very in love, too, so we'll see what happens." Matthew's heart had stopped beating momentarily. His mother was already thinking about their _marriage_? He'd had the odd thought about Mary being his wife, but in a totally hypothetical, 'maybe one day' type of manner. He was still only 25 himself and trying to finding his feet with his career. Besides anything else, he and Mary had been together for only half a year!

Matthew had always prided himself in being a mature, responsible person. Amongst his friends, these qualities made him an ideal candidate to get married; to Matthew, however, it meant that he needed to think through every decision as thoroughly as possible. One departure from this had been when he'd hastily mentioned cohabitation to Mary, but she'd rightfully pointed out that it was not appropriate for them. The idea of marriage being bandied about by Isobel so prematurely only made him more determined to take things slowly with Mary. Naturally, he hadn't mentioned any of this to Mary herself. She'd been so staunchly against living together, talk of marriage would probably scare her away.

"You're right, I don't know why I bother." Mary bit back. "You can't teach taste."

"Oh piss off." Edith huffed, ignoring her sister's comments and continuing to place decorations on the large, fresh fir tree.

"Seriously? Are you actively _trying_ to make this tree look tacky?" Mary disturbed the few moments of quiet with yet another barbed remark at Edith's efforts to inject some colour into the neutral, 'chic' tones which Mary had chosen.

"I give up." Edith declared, dropping the box of decorations on the floor and stepping off the small stool she'd been stood on to reach the higher branches.

"How's the tree coming along?" Cora asked with a broad smile as she entered the room. She'd always had a wonderful image in her head of her large family in the house together, laughing and talking as they put up decorations and listened to Christmas music, and had taken it upon herself to oversee the festive gathering this year. She'd been in the dining room with Sybil, making pretty paper chains and snowflakes to adorn the staircase, while Robert and Tom were seeing to the lighting outside the house. She'd instructed Mary, Edith and Matthew to take care of the tree – or rather, Mary had insisted on doing the tree, as she did every year, but this time made an unprecedented concession to allow Matthew as her handsome assistant. Edith, lacking the artistic skills to help her younger sister and mother, and not wishing to brave the cold weather outside, had to 'force' her way in to helping with the tree, as Mary had so welcomingly put it.

"Beautifully." Mary replied sarcastically. "We'll just tell people we let those children from the hospital for the blind decorate it this year."

"Mary..." Matthew chided gently, pinching her in the side as he passed by to fetch more fairy lights.

"I think it looks lovely, dear." Cora said comfortingly to a pouty Edith. "But why don't you come and help me and Sybil bake some raisin cookies, and Mary and Matthew can finish up here on their own?"

"We'll do the main bit of the tree and you can put the star on." Matthew offered, remembering Mary's stories of her childhood, wherein she had always been the one to crown the tree with a large, glittering gold star. She'd delighted in recounting how irked Edith had been every year to be denied the honour of such a significant task. He smiled at Mary's aghast expression, kissing the tip of her nose softly to quell her outrage.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea. I'll make some mulled wine this evening and we'll call the whole family in to watch." Cora beamed, grateful that Matthew was here. He was the only person Mary admired and respected enough to listen to (although she'd still put up a fight every now and then).

"Fine." Edith agreed, sensing it would be wise to remove herself from her sister's attacks. "How come she never has a go at you?" She asked Matthew, realising that Mary's dictatorial nature had so far not been at Matthew's expense.

"Because Matthew knows how to colour-coordinate." Mary interjected, not bothering to hide the fact that she was taking down all the baubles which Edith had hung up mere minutes ago.

"And because Matthew's learnt the hard way that it's best to defer to Mary whenever possible." Matthew murmured out of the side of his mouth, deliberately keeping his voice loud enough for Mary to hear him. He laughed when he felt Mary's unintentionally delicate punch hit him in the stomach.

"I don't know why you're both complaining – I'm just trying to ensure that the house looks presentable, and that benefits everybody." Mary defended herself. Edith scoffed loudly as she followed her mother out of the room.

Matthew stood behind Mary as she set about decorating the tree with more purpose, now that she had no distractions to endure. "Yes, darling, but I think the main point of this is to spend time together as a family, not to enter the house into some sort of interior design competition." He buried his nose in her hair, his hands resting on her hips.

"Whatever. Now, stop cuddling and pass me the stool; I need to reach the top of the tree." Mary demanded, though her voice was inevitably tinged with affection at her boyfriend's playful antagonism. When it mattered, he was on her team and would most resolutely fight her corner. She knew he'd do whatever it took to make sure she was happy and secure, as he had proven this in the past. But when it didn't matter, when it was just the two of them alone in their little cocoon, he couldn't seem to resist goading her.

"We don't need the stool for that." Matthew said matter-of-factly, assessing the height of the tree.

"Well how else are we going to do it? You're six feet tall and the tree is almost nine feet high." Mary argued.

"You're so unimaginative." Matthew responded with a smirk, and before Mary could ask him what on Earth he was talking about, he squatted down, wrapped his arms around Mary's knees and hoisted her up into the air as he stood back up, chuckling at Mary's terrified squeal.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mary asked, panicked, clutching at whatever part of him she could reach in order to find support. His head only reached her thighs, meaning her entire upper body was unsupported, and she didn't have much confidence in Matthew's strength. Granted, they'd managed to make love quite intensely against the wall of Mary's shower cubicle the other day, with him holding her up, but she suspected that the adrenaline had gifted him with unnatural power.

"Don't worry; I used to lift guys much heavier than you during rugby practice." Matthew assured her.

"Tales of your make-believe rugby career aren't going to make me feel less like I'm about to fall and crack my head open." Mary said as she nervously eyed the hard wooden floors beneath them.

"'Make-believe'?" Matthew challenged, bouncing her in his arms and making her squeal again.

"Alright, alright!" Mary quickly conceded. "You're a rugby God, OK? Happy?"

"Hmm…" Matthew pretended to evaluate how satisfactory this was. "I suppose that'll do. But I also want a big kiss once you finish with that tinsel." He said mischievously.

It was an open secret among the family that Mary had a fear of heights and was too proud to admit it. Knowing that she was masking it with her seemingly calm manner of placing decorations on the tree, Matthew made sure his grip around her legs was firm, to make her feel safe. He couldn't resist, however, nudging her short woollen dress up with his nose and biting her thigh through her tights, threatening to leave a mark there, delighting in the fact that she couldn't bat him away because her hands were occupied, and because she was still convinced that her smacks were powerful enough to knock him off balance.

"I think I'm done." Mary announced after a little while of ordering Matthew to shuffle around the tree so that she could ensure the baubles were evenly-spaced.

"Are you sure? Because, you know, I can hold you up like this for longer if necessary." Matthew offered, seeking to convince his girlfriend that he was indeed masculine enough for her.

"Yes, Superman, I'm sure." Mary smiled, feeling a surge of affection towards Matthew and his desire to impress her. She placed her hands on his shoulder as he carefully set her down on the floor.

"So about that kiss…" Matthew smiled boyishly, his eyes hopeful.

"I'm not sure you deserve it, really, after frightening me like that." Mary mock-scolded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Matthew tutted in self-reproach. "Damn. I knew we should've hung up mistletoe." He feigned melancholy and looked so adorable that Mary couldn't put up the charade any longer. Tip-toeing, she found Matthew's lips with hers and suckled them tenderly. Matthew tightened his grip on her waist, the soft material of her dress bunching in his fingers as the kiss deepened. How sweet it was to be able to kiss her like this, so freely!

Mary didn't stay over at his place very often, owing to lack of space, meaning that the time they had alone there was usually fleeting, to give her time to get back home safely. Matthew's visits to the Crawley house were more frequent, but again, he didn't like to spend the night too often as he found it a bit awkward; her parents were almost always nearby and would know what they were up to. The rest of the time they had together was out in public - it was as 'alone' as they could be, in the sense that neither of their families were around. Nevertheless, as much as they enjoyed their date-nights and daytime activities, they couldn't be completely open and care-free. And so moments like these were valued and cherished by them both in great measure.

"Mmm..." Matthew involuntarily hummed with pleasure, then groaned disappointedly when Mary pulled away. "_Why_?" he complained, his eyes still closed as he sought her with his lips.

Mary giggled at his nonsensical attempt to ask why she'd stopped the kiss. "I don't want to spoil you with too many kisses." She said with teasing seriousness.

"There could never be too many kisses." Matthew mumbled against her neck, which he was now using as a substitute for Mary's mouth.

"Upstairs?" Mary suggested through her slightly heavy breathing. She hadn't intended for her sweet kiss to escalate into anything more, but with Matthew now hungrily feasting on her neck and clutching at her body, she needed to satisfy the need building inside her.

Matthew merely grunted his agreement, wrapping his arms just under her bottom and lifting her up again as he strode towards the staircase. Both of them were bubbling with anticipation at what was to come in a few minutes' time. They'd have to be quick in order to minimise the risk of interruption from one of Mary's family (most likely Cora, trying to convince them to make some kind of origami snowmen for the dining room), but it didn't seem like the need for speed would pose much of a problem at this rate...

They made it halfway up the stairs before they heard Matthew's name being called loudly from the hallway; apparently Robert and Tom were in need of assistance with their outdoor illuminations. Mary and Matthew both sighed deeply and simultaneously, the exciting prospect of a session in between Mary's bedsheets dashed.

"I guess I should go." Matthew said reluctantly after releasing his hold on Mary.

"Can't you just tell them that you and I are busy?" Mary reasoned.

"You want me to tell your father that I can't help him because I'm in the middle of trying to bed his daughter?" Matthew asked incredulously. He felt uncomfortable enough just _kissing_ Mary around her parents!

"This is ridiculous." Mary shook her head in frustration. "We shouldn't need to sneak around and be disturbed like teenagers – we're adults!" She told him needlessly.

"Matthew? Are you there?" Robert's voice approached the staircase.

"C'mon, man, I'm freezing my arse off here!" Tom's agitated voice boomed into the house from just outside the front door.

"I'll be with you in a second!" Matthew promised them, giving his disgruntled girlfriend a quick placating peck on the lips before hurrying down to meet her father.

Mary watched him as he left her alone on the stairs, her eyes narrowed with annoyance. If only she and Matthew could be left to themselves, she thought, without her parents or sisters to disrupt their quality time. It wasn't only about being able to kiss or make love whenever they wanted, although obviously intimacy was an important part of any relationship. But today had been the first time in almost a week where they'd been completely alone for twenty minutes and had been able to focus solely on each other, and Mary found that absurd. She and Matthew had long passed the 'getting to know each other' stage in their romance – they didn't know absolutely everything about the other, of course, but their priority was simply to enjoy the other person. Even when he was with her at her family dinners, or driving her and Isobel to volunteer at the children's hospice, she missed him, because courtesy and decency restricted her from behaving the way she wanted to behave with him.

Sighing once again, she continued walking up the stairs, oblivious to the fact that the solution was staring her in the face.

…

_A/N: I thought you all deserved a small dose of M/M fluff for Christmas. It looks like Mary is edging closer towards being in favour of moving in, but what about Matthew? Stay tuned! xxx_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: hello! I feel like everytime I write an author's note I'm apologising for the delay in updating, but I am sorry! Thanks so much for letting me know of your interest and for your encouragement, it really makes me happy! And obviously it encourages me to keep writing. _

_This chapter is a little bit random – it started going one way but I suddenly decided to throw in a random flashback. Anyway, it's not too serious and meant to be light-hearted, so I hope you enjoy! xxx_

…

Taking a day off work just to relax at home isn't as much fun as it's cracked up to be. At least, that's what Matthew thought as he lazily scrolled through Youtube videos on his iPad (a rather outlandish gift from Robert for his birthday). Deciding that trying out a new recipe for lunch would be a productive thing to do, he began Googling ideas, only to be interrupted by the sound of a key in the front door. _That could only be Mum or Mary_…

"What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Matthew immediately rose from his chair upon seeing Mary, carelessly dropping his iPad - the safety of which he usually fretted over - on the sofa, and strode over to her. She looked weary.

"It's nothing too bad." Mary assured him, although she raised a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes as she spoke. "I was feeling rather dizzy and nauseous at work so they sent me away." She explained as Matthew wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her towards the sofa. "I put up a fight but they insisted that I should go home and rest."

"Quite right." Matthew said firmly, touching her forehead to discover that she had a fever. It wasn't terribly high, but she wasn't well enough to work. "Stay here, I'll get you something nutritious to eat. I told you you've not been eating properly, that's probably why you're feeling faint." He stated, making his way to the small kitchen.

"That's not what this is." Mary protested, although she had no suggestions to offer for what it actually was. Instead, she slumped against the cushions behind her. "And don't lecture me - you sound like my mother." She said, the twinkle in her eye fighting its way through in spite of her sickness. Comparing Matthew to Cora was a sure-fire way of getting him to stop doing whatever it was that she didn't like.

"Speaking of which," Matthew began, after wincing at the comparison to his girlfriend's mother, "why didn't you go home? Did you forget your key again because you change your handbag on a daily basis and forget to transfer all the contents?" Matthew raised a questioning eyebrow at her. It was so easy to irritate her, and the results were so amusing that he indulged himself in it. And he needn't feel bad about it, as she did the exact same thing with him.

"You're outdoing yourself, Mother." Mary said sarcastically. "I didn't forget my key, I just decided to come here instead." She clarified matter-of-factly, resting her head on the soft cushions which she'd propped up.

Mary couldn't see Matthew from where she was situated, but a joyous smile lit up his whole face as soon as she answered. She had chosen to go to _him_. Mary had the option of recuperating in an incredibly plush house, equipped with a full-time housekeeper, plenty of good food, comfortable beds and - most importantly - her own family, yet she'd chosen to seek comfort in his small flat, in his presence. She had more-or-less grown accustomed to expressing her love for him over the last few months, but Matthew still found little things like this - subtle indications of her affection and the importance he held in her life - nothing short of wondrous.

Unable to suppress his surge of love, he stopped rummaging through the fridge and walked over to where she was seated, stooping to kiss her. Her hands pressed against his chest to push him away.

"Don't kiss me!" She cried. "Whatever it is that I have might be contagious!"

"I think I'd bear it much better than not being able to kiss you." Matthew replied, prompting a shy smile from Mary as she accepted his sweet kiss.

An hour later, Mary had filled herself up with the lunch Matthew had prepared for her. It turned out he'd been correct in his assessment of her being in need of a good meal. She'd been terribly stressed at work over the last couple of weeks, and had been making trips to the office over the weekends too. This, coupled with the fact that she wanted to minimise the impact her work had on the amount of time she spent with Matthew, meant that her diet and care for her own well-being had been neglected. She'd at first been alarmed by the plate Matthew had presented her with; it was teeming with carbohydrates and there was a randomly placed fried egg atop some potatoes, but now that she'd consumed it all, she was feeling much better. However, she was suddenly very tired.

"Do you mind if I take a short nap? I feel drowsy." Mary asked sleepily as her droopy eyes watched Matthew finish off the dishes. _He's quite good at doing the house-work_, she thought absent-mindedly.

"Of course I don't mind!" Matthew hastily dried his hands and strode over to his bedroom, clearing away his books, fluffing his pillows and grabbing an extra blanket before Mary had even properly risen from the sofa. "Do you want anything? A…hot water bottle, or something?" He asked cautiously, glancing at her stomach.

Mary couldn't help but laugh as she watched the cogs whirring in his male brain. "It's not my time-of-the-month, darling, don't worry." She patted his arm reassuringly before settling herself into his bed. Matthew always tried his best not to be wary of the menstruation cycle and to embrace it as a natural thing that every woman goes through, but he still found it all quite mysterious and difficult to understand.

It had all been brought up one day a month previously, when Mary had been experiencing particularly agonising stomach pains and particularly changeable moods. Poor, unsuspecting Matthew had bounded into her house happily brandishing a DVD of 'Twelve Angry Men'. He'd been on a quest to find a copy of it for months, and now that he finally had one, he'd wanted to share with his girlfriend the film that had inspired his interest in law.

"_I found it!" Matthew announced with a broad smile, holding the prized DVD out in front of Mary's thoroughly unimpressed face._

_Mary glared at him and turned back to her magazine._

_Frowning at her lack of enthusiasm, Matthew persevered. "You know, it's that film that I told you about a while ago. The one that made me realise what I wanted to do with my life?" He said earnestly._

"_That film did _not_ make you realise what you wanted to do with your life." Mary told him, not taking her eyes away from the glossy pages of Vanity Fair._

"_It- it did." Matthew argued feebly, rather put out that his girlfriend wasn't sharing in his enthusiasm._

_Mary rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and turned to him as if addressing a worryingly stupid child. "Are you telling me that you sat down at the age of fourteen, watched a film and decided that you wanted to be a _juror_ for the rest of your life? Because that's what the film's about." She said firmly. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but you sit in an office all day drafting sale and purchase agreements for medium-sized companies who want to merge. You've not set foot in a courtroom in about five years - barring the time you dragged me to that godforsaken tour of the Royal Courts of Justice." She huffed, turning back to her magazine._

_Matthew wasn't sure whether to laugh or not – her ability to effortlessly disparage things was both impressive and humorous, and he could tell that she often adopted her haughty and antagonistic airs in order to amuse him and herself, but he sensed that her current mood would not accommodate laughter at her expense. He briefly debated with himself whether to argue his case for why the film had inspired him, but decided not to. "Is everything alright?" He asked, casually plopping the DVD down on the coffee table as he made to sit next to her._

"_It would be if you didn't mess up my house." Mary complained drolly, leaning forward to re-position the DVD on the table. _

_Eyebrows raised, Matthew eyed Mary warily as she painstakingly adjusted the DVD so that it was at a perfect right-angle to the small pile of books next to it. She was always a neat and tidy person, but he had never seen such behaviour from her before! "Er…" He cleared his throat. "Are you…" He trailed off as she moved to rearrange the cushions on the opposite sofa so that they were perfectly symmetrical, unsure how to ask what on Earth had gotten in to her. _

"_Am I what?" Mary snapped, then immediately groaned as she bent at the middle and clutched at the sofa._

"_Mary!" Matthew leapt out of his seat. _

"_I'm fine, I'm fine." Mary batted him away as she saw his arms reach for her. "It's just these stupid cramps, they're getting worse." She complained, hobbling back to her seat with her arm over her torso. _

"_Oh." Mary's irritable mood now made sense to Matthew. Although her need for absurd levels of neatness did not. Unless that was somehow linked to her menstruation as well? Could that happen?_

_Mary noticed her perplexed boyfriend remained standing across the room, obviously trying to decipher her curious behaviour. She had done well in concealing her strange moods for the first couple of months of their relationship, and she had been away on business for the next two occasions, but recently her symptoms had worsened. But none of that was poor Matthew's fault._

"_I'm sorry, darling." She said sincerely. "I shouldn't snap at you. It's just frustrating because none of this is really in my control, and it seems to change so frequently."_

"_I see." Matthew replied, sitting down next to her again, but Mary could clearly see that he still had no idea what was going on or what she was talking about. _

And so Mary had taken his hand in hers and explained all the effects that menstruation can have, and how those effects can change over the years, but now Matthew seemed to interpret any mildly unusual behaviour or vague sign of illness from Mary as being connected with it.

"I wasn't worried." He said defensively. He thought he'd been doing well in noticing that Mary sometimes wanted a hot water bottle to hold against her stomach when she had bad cramps, and that the surrounding area had to be meticulously tidy lest her strange cycle-induced OCD unleashed itself. He wanted to seem completely fine and nonchalant about it all. "Are you comfortable?" He asked as Mary wriggled around under the blankets in an attempt to find a position to sleep in.

"Yeah, I'm fine - although could you turn the heating up a little, please? It's a bit cold in here." Mary requested.

"Sure, let me know if you need anything else. I'll be in the living room." Matthew dropped a kiss on her lips before standing up to leave her in peace.

"What would I do without you?" Mary queried fondly. Her eyes were already closed but a smile graced her lips.

"Lead a sad and miserable life." Matthew replied over his shoulder with a smirk.

…

_A/N: I suppose the point of this chapter was to show that Matthew and Mary would do rather well living together, but it was mainly just for a bit of fluff. Please let me know what you think, and if there's anything more you'd like to see in future chapters, as my 'plan' at the moment is to continue with the fluff! xxx_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: hello everyone! Thanks so much for all your wonderful, kind reviews. I'm really glad that so many people are enjoying the story, because I love writing this version of Matthew and Mary. _

_On an unrelated note, lots of lovely people have been asking about Unwanted Rings updates – as you can imagine, the next chapter or so will be pretty difficult to write, so it is taking me a while. I am thinking about it frequently, though, trying to get inspired!_

_Anyway, back to this story. Hope you enjoy!_

…

"You're jealous!" Matthew grinned amusedly as he followed Mary back into his flat.

"Don't be ridiculous." Mary said dismissively, unwrapping the raspberry pink pashmina from around her neck, although there was an undercurrent of petulance to her tone. "Why would I be jealous of some girl you went out with when you were eighteen?" She scoffed at the ludicrousness of the notion, but Matthew was not convinced. He smirked. This was the most worked up he'd seen Mary over something like this.

The young couple had just returned from a wander around central London, where Matthew had patiently endured three hours of traipsing behind Mary as she visited almost every single shop (even, atypically for her, the regular high-street ones), trawling through the racks and shelves in search of the perfect black blazer to wear to work. Eventually she settled for one – even though it wasn't completely congruous with the image of the garment she had in her mind – and Matthew asked if he could pop into Foyles as there was a book he'd been searching for. Mary of course had no objection to this, but upon hearing that the sought-after book was one documenting a series of Edwardian studies on beetles and ants, she couldn't resist making fun of him.

"I can't see it anywhere." Matthew frowned as he perused the shelves.

"It must have sold out, darling." Mary said drolly. She was stood a little distance away, subconsciously wanting to disassociate herself from such an absurdly tedious book. "You know how trendy those ancient texts on worms are."

"Quiet, you." Matthew retorted, smiling in spite of her mickey-taking. "And the studies aren't 'ancient', nor are they on 'worms'." He corrected her. He could sense Mary rolling her eyes behind him.

"Matthew?" A female voice called from behind them both. A young woman, who seemed to have been on her way out of the shop, was approaching him, a delighted smile on her face.

"Charlotte!" Matthew's face lit up in recognition and he grinned as he walked towards her. Mary looked between the two of them, confused.

"How _are_ you?" Charlotte beamed, spreading her arms out and engulfing Matthew in a tight hug. She appeared to be very familiar with him.

"Great, thanks, how about you? I don't think I've seen you since graduation!" Matthew exclaimed, and it suddenly clicked for Mary. This was Matthew's ex-girlfriend – the one he'd dated during university. The only one he'd had before Lavinia. The one he'd lost his virginity to, she realised with a sinking feeling.

Matthew and Charlotte had been at school together and he'd fancied her for a while, but she hardly took any notice of him until after he'd turned eighteen and had suddenly blossomed from an awkward, nerdy teenager into a handsome, well-read young man. And so their relationship had marked a turning point in young Matthew's life. It had been Charlotte who had ended things just before their exams in third year, prompting him to enrol in Sandhurst immediately after graduation. In a sense, Mary felt she should thank Charlotte for providing her with such good ammunition for teasing Matthew with (the concept of Matthew holding a weapon or rolling through mud still bewildered her), but she primarily felt uncomfortable at this surprise encounter.

While Matthew and Charlotte were exchanging succinct summaries of their lives and careers, Mary took the opportunity to remain in the background, unnoticed, so as to observe the woman who had once broken her beloved Matthew's heart. She was pretty, in a modest sort of way. She wore very little make-up, her hair was up in a girlish but unfussy bun and her clothes were simple. She looked like the sort of person you could take to the local pub or go camping with, but one who would not look out of place in evening-wear or in a formal setting. Much like Matthew, Mary supposed. She began to feel very one-dimensional, in her heels, designer jeans and suede jacket.

Mary inwardly berated herself for judging Charlotte in such a shallow way; she could hear Sybil's voice chastising her for doing no favours to feminism by pitting herself against another woman for no reason other than some irrational jealousy over a man.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Charlotte's laughter. "Oh, Matthew! You haven't changed one bit, and I'm so glad." Charlotte beamed at him. "I've missed you a lot over the last few years." She added wistfully.

Mary cleared her throat loudly. Seeing Mary out of the corner of his eye, Matthew suddenly realised that she had been stood there with no introduction. "Mary!" He called, holding his arm out to beckon her over. "This is Charlotte."

"Matthew, please, you sound so formal!" Charlotte laughed, touching his forearm as she did so. Mary raised an eyebrow at this. "Call me Charlie." She said to Mary, who nodded politely but was taken aback at the woman's apparent presumption that they'd ever be meeting each other again.

"Right, sorry. Charlie is her nickname." Matthew explained with a small smile.

"Yes, you had lots of nicknames for me, didn't you?" Charlie said, her tone clearly hinting at their romantic past. Mary raised her eyebrow further.

"I'm Matthew's girlfriend." She said, engaging her polite-but-firm tone. The light flirtation being directed at Matthew needed to end.

"Oh, I see." Charlie said with polite interest, evidently surprised to see that a woman like Mary would be dating a man like Matthew – _or vice versa_. "Lucky you." She smiled.

"Yes, I think so." Mary smiled back tightly, wanting Charlie to know that she appreciated Matthew and would not make the same mistake that she had made by letting him go.

"I was just searching for a book but it doesn't seem to be here." Matthew blurted out, sensing the tension emanating from Mary.

"That's strange, they have such a big selection here." Charlie replied. "What book was it?"

"It's a book about a series of studies done primarily on beetles, by an Edwardian scientist." Matthew blushed and glanced at the floor self-consciously. "It's rather sad, I know."

"Not at all!" Charlie started laughing as she reached into her bag. "In fact – I bought the last copy!" She held out the very book which Matthew had been referring to. Mary's face was a picture of incredulity. What were the chances?!

The former flames shared a hearty laugh over the coincidence, recalling the days spent in their college's library at Cambridge where they pored over numerous books together. "See, Mary." Matthew smiled at her. "There are other people in the world who enjoy the same hobbies as I do!" He joked, attempting to keep the mood light and dispel any uneasiness Mary may be feeling.

Mary engaged a series of tight smiles and polite nods during the rest of the conversation, glad of the opportunity to desist the forced courtesy once Charlie finally left the shop – not before placing a far-too-affectionate kiss on Matthew's cheek, Mary noted.

Declaring that he was going to opt for ordering the book over the internet, Matthew led his current girlfriend back home. Mary was quiet on the journey to his flat, simply humming in assent to all of his passing comments. He'd carefully chosen not to talk too much about Charlie, common sense telling him that girlfriends won't always appreciate their boyfriends speaking about previous loves.

But just as they were walking up to the front door of Matthew's building, he had light-heartedly observed that Mary was lagging behind him, no doubt due to the hours of walking around in her heels.

"Well I'm sure _Charlie_ can always be relied upon to choose appropriate footwear on her bi-daily trips to the library!" Mary had blurted out. To her annoyance, Matthew had simply laughed.

And now she was confronted with the accusation that she was jealous. Mary Crawley was never jealous of _anybody_.

"What is it that's bothering you so much?" Matthew pried, as Mary rather aggressively dropped her handbag on a chair and folded her arms, scowling at the floor. "It's been years since I went out with Charlie! I've had a whole other relationship since then – one which I ended in order to be with you." He pointed out.

Mary shifted on her feet slightly as she debated whether to say anything. Her bad mood had more to do with her disappointment in the fact that she'd allowed herself to feel jealous, than it had to do with her actual jealousy. She glanced up at Matthew and saw his kind, concerned eyes looking back at her. If there was anyone to whom she could open up about her complex moods and insecurities, it was him.

"Yes, but – " She sighed. "You broke up with Lavinia because you decided that she wasn't right for you. You didn't break up with Charlie; you still believed her to be 'the one' and her ending things messed you up so much it made you – _you_, Matthew Crawley – join the army!"

"Mary…" Matthew breathed out in that low, soothing voice of his. "I think my strange behaviour was brought on by the fact that she was my first girlfriend and I was only twenty-one years old. I'd never had to deal with that kind of emotion before and I didn't know how to. It wasn't because she was 'the one' and I was devastated that I'd lost her. I was upset, I admit, but I really think you're reading too much into it." He walked up to Mary and gently rubbed her upper arms in reassurance.

"But you-" The protestation slipped out of Mary's mouth before she had time to stop it.

"But I what?" Matthew prompted softly.

"You – both of you – look so perfect together. She's like the female version of you. You're both passionate about Georgian insects, for crying out loud!" Mary exclaimed.

"Edwardian-" Matthew began correcting her, quickly ceasing when she threw a glare in his direction. "Yes, you're right, we do share a lot of the same qualities; we have the same taste in clothes and music and books and we used to love going on nature walks and sharing a tent-"

"I hope this is going somewhere." Mary interrupted him, her eyes narrowed in displeasure.

Matthew smiled down at her fondly. "But," he emphasised. "The truth is – I was bored. I didn't realise it at the time, because I was so pleased that a pretty girl had even noticed me, let alone agreed to go out with me, but I was honestly bored. It was the same with Lavinia – I didn't really learn anything from either of them, I didn't grow as a person. We were just there, together, perfectly content, but doing things of no real consequence. We weren't headed in any particular direction." He said sincerely. "Whereas with _you_," he referred to her so adoringly that Mary couldn't help but smile, "it's thrilling and exciting and exhilarating. You somehow manage to keep me on my toes and make me feel comfortable all at the same time. And I'm falling more in love with you everyday." He concluded reverently, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a proper kiss, which Mary was more than happy to provide him with. Even after all these months, he could still give her butterflies.

"So if I ever broke up with you, would you have another quarter-life crisis and enrol in the Army again?" Mary teased quietly after they pulled apart. "Or maybe you could try the Navy?"

"I don't want to think about what I'd do if you ever left me." Matthew said seriously, nuzzling her cheek. Mary turned her head slightly to the side to take his lips again, glad that they had the whole evening ahead of them to reaffirm their feelings.

…

"Hello." Matthew smiled, bending down to kiss Mary's lips.

"I thought you were busy this evening?" Mary questioned as she stood aside to let Matthew into her house. She'd expected him to go straight from work to a client dinner with a couple of his colleagues, but was of course pleased to instead find him at her front door.

"The client called an hour ago and said that he was tied up with something, so we've postponed." Matthew explained before quickly kissing her again. "You look nice." He observed, taking in her lightly-curled hair and fresh make-up. "Are you going somewhere?" He asked.

Before Mary could reply, Sybil ran down the stairs after who Matthew recognised as their cousin, Victoria, who lived in Sussex. He'd briefly met her at one or two of the Crawley family events – she was about Sybil's age and, from what he could remember of their encounters, something of a wild child.

"Give them back, Vicks!" A panicked Sybil shouted, and Matthew found himself being used as a shield by Victoria, who hid behind him. Sybil ran up to them, her sock-adorned feet skidding on the polished floor. Matthew threw his arms out to catch her before she fell.

"What's going on?" Mary asked amusedly, seeing that Victoria was holding something in her hands.

"Vicks stole some things from my room and isn't giving them back." Sybil huffed. "_Private _things." She emphasised, looking thoroughly displeased.

"Oh, stop being such a baby, Sybs." Victoria laughed, although she remained behind Matthew. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, I'm rather impressed by you – who would've thought that sweet, innocent little Sybil used handcuffs and a furry whip in bed with her boyfriend!" She said, without bothering to lower her tone to allow for the fact that Sybil's parents were not thirty feet away from where the group was standing in the hallway.

Sybil gasped in horror at being ousted in such a manner, throwing Mary an apologetic glance and not bearing to look at Matthew. Matthew was glad of it – he'd come to see Sybil as a little sister of his own and found this new piece of knowledge rather discomforting, particularly as it clearly involved his best friend…

Wincing, Mary pushed all disturbing images out of her head and addressed her younger cousin. "Vicky, just give Sybil back her things and please consider the proximity of our parents before you make any further revelations!" She whispered, gesturing towards the living room where her parents were enjoying a glass of wine.

"Alright, fine." Victoria rolled her eyes, handing the controversial items back to Sybil. "You guys need to lighten up a bit."

Sybil scoffed. Changing the subject, Mary turned back to her boyfriend. "Victoria decided to stop over for the night on her way home from university and we're all going out to Soho with a few of her friends."

"Oh. That sounds nice." Matthew attempted to sound enthusiastic about Mary's evening, but was inwardly disappointed that his plan of continuing to teach Mary how to play chess had been thwarted.

"Hi, Matthew!" Edith popped her head around the door to the library. "I didn't know you were coming out with us." She smiled, glad that she'd be able to count on someone to be nice to her and keep her company if everybody else deserted her. Mary and Sybil were both spoken for but, irritatingly, they were always inundated with male attention every time they went out, leaving Edith to look on forlornly and struggle to even catch the attention of the barman to serve her a drink. It would be even worse with Victoria there, too – Edith found it difficult to keep up with the number of shots she insisted that everyone should do, making her the subject of teasing amongst the group.

"Erm, well…" Matthew stuttered uncomfortably, not wanting to invite himself along to what was clearly a girls' night out.

"Yes, you should come, Matthew!" Victoria proclaimed. "It must have been a while since you last had fun." She said without a hint of sarcasm, which made it even more insulting.

"I have fun." Matthew muttered defensively, his petulant frown making Mary giggle and stroke his arm affectionately. Despite hardly having spoken to him, Victoria appeared convinced that Matthew was a boring goody-two-shoes whose idea of a good time was sitting at home with his nose in a book about mediaeval monasteries. While that perception of him was largely accurate, it wasn't an image which Matthew wanted to solidify in Victoria's, or anyone's mind.

"I'm sure you do." Victoria smiled politely, obviously humouring him. "But you've never been on a night out with _me_ before. Plus, we're meeting a couple of my male friends from university, so you won't be the only guy there."

"Yes, exactly!" Edith smiled happily.

"Vicks, don't force him." Mary said, sensing that Matthew wouldn't be too keen on the prospect of hanging out with a bunch of twenty year old over-privileged students. "I don't think it's really Matthew's scene."

Matthew looked sharply at Mary. Something in her tone was euphemistic. "What do you mean?" He questioned.

"She means she thinks you're a bore." Victoria said matter-of-factly.

"That's _not_ what I meant." Mary said hurriedly – so hurriedly that it made Matthew think that she did in fact mean that.

"Well, where exactly are you going?" He asked.

"Just to a couple of bars and clubs. We haven't really planned it out." Mary replied. "But I just don't think you'd enjoy it."

"Why not?" Matthew queried.

Mary shifted on her feet, hesitating. Sybil and Edith glanced at each other awkwardly, anticipating an argument.

"Well…" Mary began. "We'll be drinking and, you know, dancing and things. You don't really do any of that."

"That's not true." Matthew said, growing uptight. "I frequently go out for drinks with people."

"Yes, darling, but work-related drinks or a couple of beers at the pub with Tom isn't really the same thing." Mary said patiently. Even while they'd just been friends and Mary had invited Matthew along to her birthday party and a couple of nights out, it had been overtly clear that Matthew was not one for clubbing and boozing. She herself wasn't especially fond of that lifestyle either but, as a young socialite, it was almost expected of her to make a certain number of appearances in particular venues and to forge and maintain new connections. Consequently, she was much more comfortable with such pursuits than Matthew ever would be. "When was the last time you went to a club and actually enjoyed yourself?" She asked rhetorically. "I'm just trying to save you from an awkward night out." She smiled.

Matthew merely raised an eyebrow at her use of the word 'awkward'. Determined to prove her wrong in her assessment of him, he turned to Victoria. "What time are we leaving? I need to go home and change."

Mary frowned in confusion at his willingness to embark on one of Vicky's booze cruises, while Edith smiled with relief.

…

"Why is it so loud in here?" Matthew tutted, taking another sip of his rum and coke.

"I know, I can barely hear myself think." Replied Edith from her seat next to him. The two of them were sat in a booth while Mary, Sybil and Victoria hit the dancefloor. They'd been to two bars and met up with Victoria's friends – who were also dancing – before heading to the nightclub they were currently in. He'd made sure that he bought all of Mary's drinks for her – partly because he liked treating her, but partly because he wanted to make it clear to all the other men who were eyeing her up that she was with him. He'd tried to protect Sybil and Victoria too (Edith so far hadn't required any such help) but Victoria had batted him away, having no problem with the male attention, and Sybil gratefully assured him that she can look after herself.

It was approaching 1.30am and Matthew was tired of all the moving around and the incessant noise, so had decided to take a seat. Edith had joined him, glad of the opportunity to step away from the rest of the group and have a little moan to Matthew about how much she hated these nights.

"So why do you come out with them?" Matthew asked curiously.

Edith sighed. "I suppose I hope it'll get better and one day I'll miraculously enjoy myself or meet a nice boy." She chuckled ruefully. "What about you – why did you come?"

Matthew gulped down the rest of his drink, hoping it might perk him up a bit; he was incredibly tired. He never stayed up this late. "Mary seems to think I'm incapable of having fun." He replied. "She's right that this environment isn't really my scene, but I don't want her to think I'm a complete bore and she can't take me anywhere."

"I'm sure she doesn't think that." Edith said reassuringly, sensing that this was something that bothered Matthew. "She loves spending time with you."

"When it's just the two of us, or we're among family, then yes." Matthew corrected her.

"Matthew!" The call of one of Victoria's rugby-lad friends interrupted the conversation. Looking up, Matthew saw that the whole group were returning to the booth.

"You're back." Matthew said needlessly, smiling up at Mary as she slid into the booth and settled herself on his lap, planting a big kiss on his lips. Clearly she'd had a fair amount to drink – she never engaged in such public displays of affection otherwise.

"Your girlfriend's been lonely on the dancefloor!" The young man, named Hubert, continued. "Why didn't you join her?"

Before Matthew could reply, Mary interjected. "I told you guys – Matthew doesn't do dancing. Unless it's slow-dancing." Mary added with a wry smile, remembering their first kiss.

"I do dance, sometimes." Matthew said to the group. "I just don't really like this sort of music." He shrugged casually. Indeed, he'd never even heard this sort of music before, but after politely enquiring he'd been reliably informed that it was something called 'grime'.

"Don't worry, Matthew." One of the other lads chimed in. "I'm sure they'll play one of those wonderful operas by Bach soon!" He teased, and the group guffawed.

Matthew smiled politely at the joke and decided not to point out that Bach never wrote an opera. He didn't want to appear overtly irked by the jibes being made at his expense. At least he was deflecting some of the heat away from Edith, he thought.

"Do you want to go home, darling?" Mary asked kindly, running her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. It was a nice offer – it was clear that she was enjoying herself but she was willing to go home with Matthew because she could see that he was uncomfortable – but it somehow served to irritate Matthew more. He felt like he was an appendage to her, a burden. Like a small child she'd taken along to the shops because she didn't want to leave him at home alone.

"I'm alright, actually." He smiled stiffly up at her, before finishing off the drink which was only making him drowsier.

"Oh, OK. If you're sure…" Mary frowned gently. It was obvious that he didn't want to be there. She couldn't understand why he'd agreed to go out with them in the first place, let alone why he insisted on staying there.

Another hour passed by and Matthew was visibly wilting. Mary was still sat on his lap and his head had gradually found its way to rest on her shoulder. She couldn't see his face but she worried that he might be falling asleep. The rest of the group showed no signs of slowing down and were talking of where to move on to next. Seeing that Edith was also struggling to muster enthusiasm for prolonging the evening, Mary suggested that the two of them and Matthew take a cab back home. After a bit of gentle prodding, Matthew had sat up straight and reluctantly conceded that it was time for him to get to bed. Mary let him tell the others that it was he who had decided it was time to take Mary and Edith home, as she suspected that he felt the need to assert himself in some way – or at least make the pretence of it.

The journey home had been quiet and the three of them made their way to their respective sleeping quarters, with poor Matthew climbing straight into Mary's bed and falling into a deep slumber by the time Mary had removed her heels.

The couple awoke very slowly the next morning. Mary turned her head to check the time on her bedside clock – 11.13am.

"God. It's late." Matthew's gruff voice sounded from his place next to her.

"It is." Mary sighed, observing her boyfriend's appearance with a smirk. His hair was messy, the buttons on his shirt were half undone and short stubble covered his jaw.

"What do you want to do today?" Matthew asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up.

"Hmm…" Mary hummed, as if pondering her options. "Lazy day in bed?" She asked mischievously, slowly moving herself over him and burying her head against his neck. Her parents were out, Sybil and Victoria were probably passed out in their rooms and Edith was meeting a friend for lunch. "I wanted you last night." She said seductively, eliciting an involuntary groan from Matthew as she rubbed her body against his. "Did you notice that I wore the dress that you like?"

"I did." Matthew replied. "I also noticed that many of the other men in the clubs liked it too. Especially that friend of Vicky's who kept gawping at you." As much as he was enjoying the feel of Mary sucking the skin on his neck between her teeth, he was still bitter about the night before.

"Stop being jealous." Mary chided with a smile. "Besides, I noticed Vicky eyeing you up a lot over the course of the evening. I think she might be developing a crush on you." She remarked.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure she loves guys who she finds unbearably dull." He replied sarcastically. "Although, _you_ seem to love me in spite of finding me stuffy and tedious, so maybe it is possible." Matthew added sourly.

Mary's head snapped up to look at him, her brow creased. She had no idea what had gotten into him over the last 15 hours.

"What are you talking about?" She asked incredulously.

Matthew's petulance had returned, manifesting itself in his set jaw and his unwillingness to look at her. "You find me boring and don't want to be seen with me in public." He said matter-of-factly.

Raising herself off the bed, Mary gazed down at Matthew, both eyebrows raised in disbelief. "I repeat- what on _Earth_ are you talking about? I don't find you boring and I have no problem being seen with you in public!"

"You tried to dissuade me to come out with you last night." Matthew countered, finally meeting her eyes.

"Only because I know how you dislike those sorts of nights - I was saving you the trouble of having to decline the offer." Mary responded, still bemused by his bad mood.

Not being able to truthfully deny that he did not find bars and clubs enjoyable, Matthew fixed his gaze on the wall opposite him. Mary watched him, waiting for him to say something. A few moments passed in awkward silence. "Why do I get the feeling that that's not everything?" She asked rhetorically.

Matthew sighed. "I just…I get the feeling that you don't like spending time with me unless we're just hanging out at your house or my flat, or we're in a restaurant, just the two of us."

Mary's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Darling, that's not true! We do things with Sybil and Tom all the time. Even Edith, sometimes." She added as an after-thought.

"They don't count." Matthew shook his head dismissively. "What about your friends and all of the socialites?" He challenged. "You always discourage me from spending time with you when you're with them."

"You met a few of them before we started going out, mostly at my birthday party, and you couldn't stand them." Mary reminded him. "So I presumed that you wouldn't really want to spend time with them – was that not a fair presumption?" She asked, growing frustrated. Matthew remained silent, picking at the embroidery on Mary's quilt. "Matthew, the only reason I don't invite you to events with my 'friends' – if you want to call them that – is that I know you won't enjoy it. It's not because I'm embarrassed by you!" She cried.

"But you must admit, though." Matthew continued. "You don't perceive me as the ideal person to be out with on a Friday night. You'd much rather eat a quiet meal, or talk, or watch a film with me." He sulked.

"Of course I admit that!" Mary exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation, still unsure what they were actually arguing about. "Is that even a thing to admit, given that it's not a secret?"

Matthew looked at her sadly. "But I _want_ you to think of me as fun to be around. I don't want to just be the quiet boyfriend who sits at home reading a book until you get home from socialising. I want you to want me to be there with you."

Mary couldn't help but smile affectionately at his puppy-dog eyes and his little pout. She placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb lovingly stroking the skin there. "Matthew," she sighed. "I don't know how this silly idea got into your head or why you're upset about it, but please believe me when I tell you that you're being ridiculous. You _know_ how much fun we have together! I never laugh with anyone as much as I do with you." She pointed out. It was true – her smiles and chuckles had predominantly been courteous, falsified ones up until Matthew had walked into her life. His ability to cheer her mood and bring a genuine grin to her face had grown in strength over the weeks and months of their friendship, and now hardly an hour went by in his company without the two of them struggling for breath as they shared a laugh over one of Matthew's endearingly bad jokes. "You wouldn't be my first choice to do a round of shots with – so what? You're my first choice for so many other, more important things. The fun I have with you is infinitely more meaningful and genuine than the fun I have with Vicky, or her friends, or anyone else."

She was glad to see that Matthew's frown had turned into one of his boyish smiles and she happily accepted the small, sweet kiss he gave her.

"In any case, it's not like I'd be your first choice to accompany you on a late-night museum tour, would I?" Mary raised an eyebrow at him.

"Only because you do nothing but moan everytime I try to take you somewhere like that." Matthew complained playfully, stroking her back as she nestled against him again. "I personally found the Friday night exhibitions quite interesting."

"I think it's good for us to maintain different interests." Mary said more seriously, playing with a loose thread on Matthew's shirt. "It's healthy."

"I think so too." Matthew said, dropping a kiss on her hair in order to emphasise his agreement.

"Anyway, you know what they say." Mary smiled into his chest. "It's not who you choose to spend Friday night with that matters – it's who you spend all day Saturday with."

…

_A/N: just a little insight into their insecurities about their relationship. I thought it was important for them to confront such issues before they could go to the next stage. Please let me know your thoughts, and feel free to let me know of anything you'd like to see more/less of! xxx_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I am finally updating this! It has been a work-in-progress for weeks and weeks now, but I sat down this evening and made sure to upload it. Thanks so much for sticking with it and continuing to read and review. I do love this young, playful version of M/M so it makes me really happy to know that others do too! _

_As an aside, I am a couple of thousand words in on the next UR chapter, so hopefully it won't be too long! Xxx_

…

Mary turned the key into the lock to let herself into Matthew's flat, giving the door its necessary little kick to get it open. He'd had to give her a lesson on how to open his unco-operative door and made her practice while he was there, in order to avoid her being stuck outside one day. Mary had rolled her eyes and insisted that she was more than capable of opening a door on her own but she was secretly glad that he seemed able to tell that she would struggle with it. The last thing she wanted was to be left out in the cold, dank hallway.

"Matthew?" Mary called into the seemingly empty flat. It was 11.30am – the exact time he'd been expecting her to arrive. They hadn't seen each other in three days and had both been very excited about the prospect of spending the majority of Saturday together, alone in his flat. But he wasn't there. As if on cue, Mary's mobile phone started to ring. "Hey, where are you?" She asked.

"Really sorry but I'm still in Marks & Spencer. I realised I didn't have enough food for our lunch so I popped out to buy a few things. I'll leave soon." Matthew's voice promised.

"Alright, don't be too long." Mary said before they disconnected the call, disappointed that she'd have to wait a little while longer before she could see him.

Plopping herself down on the sofa, she pulled her phone out of her handbag and began scrolling through Facebook to pass the time. After a few minutes, she realised that most of her Facebook contacts were in fact incredibly irritating attention-seekers. Sighing, she glanced around the living room in search of a more enjoyable distraction. Her eyes lit up as she spied an unfinished Sudoku puzzle lying on the coffee table. It always annoyed Matthew that he could never finish the puzzles as easily as he wanted to; Mary, on the other hand, was rather good at them and took pleasure in completing them much more quickly and subsequently gloating about her intellectual superiority. Picking up the paper and pen, she tucked her feet under her bottom as she snuggled up on the sofa, grabbing one of the cushions to rest the newspaper on as she wrote.

After breezing through most of the boxes, she realised she was left with two '9' figures in one of the big boxes – she never made such errors! She bit her lip in concentration as she perused the paper in search of where she'd gone wrong. Her growing frustration manifested itself in the form of increasingly frantic tapping of the pen on the newspaper. The fierceness of her motions eventually caused the flimsy pen to crack and bleed ink all over her hand and the newspaper. Groaning with exasperation at the extent of her failure in completing the Sudoku puzzle, she lifted the newspaper up with the intention of discarding it in the bin. Upon raising the paper up in the air, however, Mary noticed that the ink had already seeped through onto the cushion below it. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she realised that the cushion in question wasn't just any old cushion.

Back while they were still friends, Mary had teased Matthew for having, as a grown man, what was clearly a child's bedtime accessory in his flat. Matthew had sheepishly explained to her that it was what he used to sleep on as a baby and it had become a prized possession of his – he'd grown so attached to it as he lay in his cot, shunning all of his cuddly toys in favour of the powder blue and beige checked cushion, that he continued to carry it around with him wherever he went until the age of 5. Time passed by and the cushion was left, neglected, in a cupboard in his bedroom. That is, until his father died. Shortly after his father's death, Matthew and his mother were clearing through his possessions. Isobel mentioned that, as soon as she and Reginald had discovered that they were having a son, Reginald had rushed out to buy the cushion for baby Matthew. Since finding this out, it had been given pride of place in Matthew's living quarters. He usually tucked it away safely in his room when guests were over at his flat, but he took no such precautions when only Mary was there, knowing that she understands its value.

The horror and guilt building within Mary was monumental, therefore, when she realised what had happened. Feeling the need to act as quickly as possible, she grabbed hold of the precious cushion with both hands, completely forgetting that one of her hands was itself covered in blue ink. Almost shrieking with despair, Mary rushed into the kitchen and turned the tap on. She placed the cushion in the sink, directly underneath the running hot water, while she manically rummaged through Matthew's cupboards and drawers, hoping to find some form of cleaning substance to aid her.

She couldn't let Matthew come home to find his beloved cushion completely ruined – she had to delay his return. Retrieving her phone, she sent him a short text message asking him to find the most obscure kind of cheese she could think of, claiming that she had a craving for it. _That should buy me more time_.

No such luck.

"Mary? I'm back!" Matthew's cheery voice sounded from the hallway, along with the rustle of all the shopping bags he'd brought back with him. "Where are you hiding?" He chuckled, entering the living room.

Mary looked at him from where she stood in the kitchen doorway, practically trembling with regret.

"I'm so sorry, Matthew." She breathed.

"What's wrong? What is it?" Matthew dropped the bags on the floor, concern etched on his face.

"I did something you're really not going to be happy about." Mary tried to brace him for the news.

Matthew's eyes automatically started searching the room for what she could be referring to. Eventually, they settled on what he was sure was the crime she had committed.

"You finished my Sudoku puzzle?!" He exclaimed.

"What? No, not that!" Mary cried. She was almost sobbing now. If he was this distraught about his Sudoku puzzle, God knows how he'd react to his cushion being destroyed.

"What is it, Mary?" Matthew walked over to her, to calm her down. "What did you do, darling?" He stroked her back with one hand and soothingly caressed her cheek with the other. The tears which had been threatening to spill now fell down her cheeks and onto his thumb.

"Oh, Matthew." Mary wept. "Your cushion!" She gestured behind her, in the kitchen.

Frowning with confusion, Matthew stepped around her and over to the sink. There seemed to be a lumpy pile of material of some kind in there. Peering further in, he gasped when he realised what it was.

"What happened?" He asked, aghast.

"I was using it to rest the newspaper on," Mary explained, mopping up her eyes with her sleeve, "and the pen leaked. I'm so sorry. _So_ sorry." She emphasised. She knew it wasn't enough, though. How could she ever make amends for ruining something that was irreplaceable to him? "I didn't realise what it was."

Matthew stayed silent, his eyes trained on the wet cushion in his kitchen sink. Almost half the pale cover was soaked in dark blue ink.

"Matthew?" Mary asked tentatively after a few moments. It scared her that he wasn't reacting. She wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to break up with her right then and there. A fresh flood of tears came cascading down her face.

The sound of her sobs made Matthew instinctively whip around on the spot and rush to her side. "Oh, my darling." He said softly, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her to him, but she resisted.

"No, you shouldn't be consoling me." She sniffed. "I'm the one who destroyed your most precious possession – _I_ should be consoling _you_!" She dabbed at her eyes again. "You must hate me. God, I'm _so_ sorry, Matthew!" She croaked out another apology before clutching at him and resting her head on his chest.

"Shh," Matthew soothed, rubbing her back and running his fingers through her hair. He'd never seen her in such a state. Remorse was not an emotion that she liked to admit to feeling. In a way, he liked that he was gradually discovering all these new sides to her as their relationship progressed – ones which lay completely undetected by anybody else. "It's alright." He said into her hair.

"No, it's not!" Mary cried out, pushing herself away from him so that she could look at him. "That's your pillow! Your father's pillow!" She angrily scrubbed at her face with the back of her hands, frustrated that he was being so irrationally unperturbed.

"I know." Matthew nodded softly. It was tremendously special to him, and it did break his heart to see it tarnished after all these years of it being in such pristine condition. "But there's no need to be so cut up about it, Mary. it was an accident." He assured her. "If you hadn't done it then I'm sure I would've, at some point soon!" He tried a small chuckle to lighten the mood but Mary remained unconvinced, her pretty face overtly troubled. "Look, I'll call my Mum and she'll bring over one of her insanely powerful cleaning products. I'm sure it's not completely beyond repair." Matthew said confidently as he pulled out his phone, although he wasn't sure if his confidence was founded or not.

"Alright…" Mary agreed, but her worried gaze was still directed towards the kitchen sink which housed the unfortunate cushion. "Is there anything I can do?" She asked, feeling bad that she was bringing Isobel, who always had a full plate, into this.

"You can stop crying and help me prepare lunch." Matthew smiled kindly and placed a kiss on her cheek.

…

A few hours later, and Matthew's cherished cushion was in a much better state than either of them had hoped for. As Matthew had mentioned, Isobel was in possession of a vast array of powders and bleaches and scrubbing equipment, a combination of which helped remove most of the dark ink which had embedded itself into the delicate material.

Thankfully, Isobel had not blamed Mary at all – as Mary had feared she would – and even gave her a quick hug to assure her that there was absolutely no reason to feel so terrible. While these understanding words were comforting to some extent, Mary still felt awful for what had happened and apologised again when saying goodbye to Isobel.

"There we are, it looks a lot better now that it's dry." Matthew announced, having just pulled the cushion-cover out of the tumble-dryer. There remained a fairly visible patch of dark blue and a few random blotches, however.

"Hmm…" Mary hummed in a mixture of fake agreement and open cynicism. Matthew merely gave her a pointed look, as if to warn her not to express any further contrition because it would be very silly to do so. Mary sighed. "I just don't understand why you're being so nice about this!" She blurted out. "You should be angry with me." She said, practically scolding him for not scolding her.

"Mary, you didn't do it on purpose!" Matthew reiterated.

"I _know_, but surely you're upset that it happened?" Mary asked. She herself had a small figurine that had been given to her when she was seven years old by an aunt who she detested – it held a lot of significance for her and she would be very sad to see anything happen to it, despite loathing the gift-bearer so much. So she couldn't imagine what it would be like if the item held a deep personal poignancy too.

Matthew shrugged. There was no use lying to her just to make her feel better – in fact, it almost seemed as if him breaking down in tears would make her feel better. "I suppose so, yes…there's a lot of sentiment attached to it…" He said wistfully, but stopped himself when he noticed the regret reforming in Mary's countenance. "But," he quickly added, "it is just a cushion, ultimately. It being slightly damaged hasn't removed my father from my memory. You could've set the cushion on fire and it still wouldn't have made any difference to the memory of my father." He explained, sitting down next to her.

Mary's eyes roamed over his face, searching for signs of sugar-coated kindness rather than truth. He was almost always totally honest with her, and she was very lucky to have such a sincere boyfriend, but there were times when he would prioritise her feelings over his own well-being and would consequently bend the truth a little. Finding honesty in his eyes, she let herself relax. "I see what you mean." She said quietly.

"Good." Matthew smiled. "Thank you for caring so much – it's very sweet, but very silly, of you to worry so much."

"You do realise that you're making me feel worse by thanking me for caring about ruining your dearest possession?" Mary asked sarcastically, causing Matthew to laugh. "Of course I care, Matthew – your parents are by far the most important people in your life!" She stated. She turned to look at Matthew when he stayed silent.

"Well…not '_by far_', as such…" He said enigmatically.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

"Just…well, you're certainly up there too." Matthew replied blushingly.

Mary raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "You can't mean that you value me almost as highly as you value your parents?" She exclaimed.

Shifting in his seat, Matthew cleared his throat awkwardly. Was she berating him for being too in love with her? Did it seem ridiculous to love one's girlfriend that much? "Erm…I suppose so, yeah." His face grew more pink. "I mean, of course my parents hold a place in my life that nobody else could touch or fulfil in the same way." He clarified. "But...I've never felt about anyone the way that I feel about you." He gushed.

"Go on…" Mary smiled smugly, prompting another chuckle from Matthew. He was consistently vocal with his affection for her, but she nevertheless liked to milk any opportunity that arose for all it was worth.

"Well, I can talk to you about anything, I feel more comfortable around you than I do with anyone else…" Matthew began. "Even in ways that I never realised I'd been holding back on. Like in the bedroom." He said, turning a shade close to crimson at Mary's giggles. "You're the most important part of my day." He finished, his expression so earnest and adorable that Mary couldn't stop herself from cupping his face in her hands and kissing him soundly.

"And you're mine." She whispered, her smile echoing his. "And you're definitely amongst my family in the list of 'The Most Important People in Mary Crawley's Life." She told him.

"Oh really?" Matthew asked. "I presumed from your reaction that you thought it was strange for me to say that."

"I thought it was strange for you to rank me among your family given that you actually _like_ yours." Mary explained. Matthew tried to give her a stern look for being so unforgiving of her family – who were perfectly nice for the most part – but couldn't resist his grin.

"I think my father would've really liked you." He said fondly.

"You think so?" Mary asked hopefully. It was a massive compliment – from all the things she'd heard from Matthew and Isobel, and a couple of Matthew's relatives, Reginald Crawley had been a wonderful, kind and decent man. Much like Matthew, she imagined.

Matthew nodded vigorously. "Definitely – he liked strong women. He did marry my mother, after all." He smirked.

"That is true." Mary chuckled, readjusting herself on the sofa so that she could curl into his side.

"You know…" Matthew said tentatively after a few moments. He hesitated.

"Hmm?" Mary hummed, pausing briefly from playing with his fingers.

"Never mind." Matthew shook his head dismissively.

"No, what is it?" Mary sat up straighter and looked at him. She could sense from his tone that it was something important.

"I just thought – I know we spoke about this a while ago and decided against it, but –" He paused again. "It _would _be quite nice to live together, wouldn't it?" He posed the question nervously, afraid that she might be annoyed at him for bringing it up again.

"Just 'quite nice'?" Mary feigned offence. On the inside, though, she was elated.

Matthew smirked. "Maybe a bit more than that…" He conceded. "Although you are rather cruel to me sometimes." He pouted.

"Only because you enjoy it." Mary countered, raising herself up on the sofa and straddling his lap.

"I am quite certain that it is you who derives the most enjoyment from your taunts." Matthew said haughtily, wrapping his arms around her.

"It's my favourite hobby." Mary said matter-of-factly, allowing Matthew's hand on the back of her neck to coax her head down for a kiss.

"So, what do you say?" Matthew asked softly against her lips.

Mary drew back slightly to look into his eyes. "I think it's a marvellous idea, Mr Crawley." She answered, leaning towards his grinning face for a deeper kiss.

…

_A/N: soooo, there we have it! This could be the end of the story but I maaay do a chapter or two more, involving them ACTUALLY moving in together. We still have Aunt Rosamund etc to deal with, I suppose. Let me know what you think! xxxx_


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